Splice preferred his SAA role and respected his council seat.
“Devil, how do we look this month for profits?” Axel questioned the treasurer. The financier tallied coins, allocated portions to members, and kept the club solvent. Devil might look like a man who could chew titanium and spit out bullets; he was built like the Hulk had fucked his mom, but the guy knew numbers. Chains was married to an accountant, and Splice had once overheard Devil and Monroe discussing finances. Splice couldn’t make heads or tails of their conversation.
Rolling the half-eaten red licorice stick from the side of his mouth to the other, he sucked the sweetness as Devil explained how much they’d be receiving this month. He kept his spending low, limited to necessities and his mom’s needs, and siphoned his MC income into savings. He figured when he retired, he’d want to kick back by a lake and fish, or do whatever old guys do, and he planned to do it in style.
Just then, Chains’ phone pinged, and the VP sprang to his feet like he’d been shot in the butt. It instantly put everyone on alert.
“It’s nothing.” He exhaled and sank back into his chair. “Monroe’s sister is letting me know they’re on the way home.”
“It’s your old lady that’s ready to drop your kid, VP. Why the fuck do you have us all on a knife-edge with you?” laughed Reno down the other end of the table.
For days now, since Monroe approached her due date, Chains watched his phone as if he thought he could jump through it the moment he got the message his old lady needed him.
“He made me drop my beer yesterday when he rushed out of my backyard. I thought SWAT was coming,” piped a smirking Denver, and Chains, while hunched over his phone, typing a message, fired off the middle finger to the club’s medic.
“I’m out if there’s nothing else,” Chains said, sliding his phone away. He stood and skimmed a hand over his clipped Mohawk.
“Hold up a second, Chains,” Axel said. “Today is Primo’s first meeting back. It’s been a long time since we were at full power. Welcome back to the council table, my brother.”
Every man there pounded the table and cheered for the returned brother.
“Thanks, Prez,” Primo spoke in his quiet, husky tone once everyone piped down. “It’s good to be back. And thanks to the First Lady for setting up my new office. It’s sweet as fuck.”
“For all your hacking needs, bro,” smirked Splice.
As Chains exited, Dillion was in the doorway. Once a probie with a foul attitude, the kid seemed to have turned his shit around.
Probies weren’t permitted in the council room, not until they earned their patch. He was wearing his Prospect vest and looked a little sweaty and harried.
“Prez, Scar is in the storeroom; she’s trying to organize the shelves again. Prez, she won’t let me do anything. I tried to stop her from lifting shit, but she told me to butt out.”
Ah, no wonder the kid was looking green around the gills. Once Axel’s old lady grew her pregnant belly, he’d put Dillion on babysitting duty. Basically, to stop her from doing anything dumb, but the First Lady had a stubborn streak.
The Prez let her get away with all kinds of antics.
“And you ran to Daddy Prez to tattle on his wife?” Reno chuckled in a friendly way.
“When it’s my head on the chopping block for letting her do stuff on her own, yeah, man!” agreed the probie. Then he looked toward Axel again, who was already climbing to his feet. “It’s not like I can yell at Prez’s old lady.”
Too true. Axel would shoot anyone in the face and not ask questions afterward.
“Where is she now?” Axel asked.
“Sitting on the storeroom floor, counting cans of beans. I grabbed the stepladder before I hoofed it down here.”
There was a rumble of chuckles as one brother after another pushed back his chair.
“That woman is gonna turn me gray. Sit the fuck down, I tell her. Does she even listen?” scowled Axel, and Splice shared a smirk with Tomb. Axel was all talk. Every biker there had witnessed how he spoiled his pint-sized runaway thief.
A short while ago, he had transformed a spare back room into Scarlett’s private cinema. Entry was forbidden unless Scarlett granted permission.
“Meeting fucking dismissed,” Axel said and strode out, closely followed by the probie who was busy running his mouth, tattling on Scarlett.
Splice thanked his lucky stars that he had never wanted to be in that position. Watching Axel and Chains these past months slowly lose their cool edge because they were worried for their pregnant old ladies looked exhausting as fuck.
Splice overtook the twins in the corridor. Though they had identical faces, Reno’s smile made them easy to distinguish.
“Yo, Ruin, you got a minute?”
